Page 91 of Shackled

By the end of the meeting, it feels like the room is filled with a renewed sense of purpose.

“Tomorrow, I will be in contact with each of you. As you are aware, my marriage to Lev Romanov puts us in a unique position of leadership across countries. Do not consider any type of retaliation. The Romanovs are willing and able to defend. Those loyal to my brother are disloyal to me.”

Some of them pay homage to her, and others leave quietly. All on the roster are accounted for. She isn’t worried.

“Before I left Colombia, I established strong relationships with every one of them. Loyal dogs don’t bite the hand that feeds them, you know.”

I stare at her in disbelief. “How did you do that?”

She shrugs. “I had some money. My father didn’t leave me penniless. I paid off gambling debts. Medical bills. I had a few mortgages taken care of and erased the history of some of those on my brother’s shit list. It took time, but it was worth it. Did you sense any open hostility among them?”

I shake my head. “No, and I couldn’t puzzle why not. I see now.” I thought they were just better at hiding it. We end all calls and collapse together back in our bedroom.

Isabella grips my hand tightly. “We’ve done it, Lev,” she whispers. “This is just the beginning.”

I nod, feeling the weight of what we’ve accomplished and what still lies ahead.

“We did. Together.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Isabella

That night, I dream fitfully. The greatest threat against us may be gone—for now—but I know as well as anyone that the battle ahead is what really matters.

I wake up every few hours. I place my hand on the flat of my belly and sip from the glass of water that Lev put on my bedside table. I rustle in bed and feel the weight of his hand on my side.

I should be angry with him—should be fucking furious. And maybe I am, somewhere deep down below the surface. I’ll give myself space to feel, to process, and to deal with whatever happens. At least I didn’t expect this to be all sunshine and roses. But right now, all I feel is… relief.

Javier is gone.

And while he might have some who are still loyal to him—and we will weed every last one of them out—he has no power over me anymore. Over any of us.

I hold my belly. It’s too new, and I’m not far enough along yet to make it feel real. But I have to admit… I don’t feel the way I thought I would.

I told him I didn’t want any children. I told him I didn’t want to be a mother. But now that it’s happening, I’m surprised to find it doesn’t feel like the death sentence I thought it would.

A baby. Children. Maybe a little girl who has her daddy’s eyes and my spirit. Perhaps a little boy with that dimple in his cheek. Here, in the Romanov family, my children will have people who love them. Aunts and uncles, a grandmother and cousins… a father who actually wants them and a mother who will do anything for them.

I swipe at my cheeks.

I can run the Los Sangre Dorada and have a family, too.

Right?

“What are you thinking?” Lev’s voice is rough and husky in the early morning quiet. He gives my ass a playful swat. “You should be sleeping, woman.”

“So should you,” I retort. I sigh and close my eyes. Nestle my ass closer to him. He groans and hugs me tighter. A shiver of pleasure washes through me at the warmth and weight of his arm over me. I don’t need a man to protect me, but damn, does it feel good having one who will.

“Sleep, beautiful,” he says softly. “We have a ton of shit to do tomorrow.”

And the day after, and the day after.

I close my eyes. Wordlessly, he runs his fingers through my hair. Tension seeps out of my body with every gentle stroke. I missed him. I want him.

I’m totally madly in love with him. I focus on my breathing. My rapid heartbeat gradually begins to slow. I close my eyes, and I fall back asleep.

When I wake hours later, the bright light outside my window tells me it’s well past sunrise. The smell of bacon and coffee wakes me up. I stretch my arms overhead and sit up in bed, waiting for a wave of nausea. Thankfully, I feel mildly queasy, but that bacon smells like heaven.

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